Page 2 of Coming Home

“Don’t you forget it.” Mom wiggled her hips and adjusted his bow tie dotted with tiny yellow teacups.

“Gross! I’d go to HR about the two of you, but since Mom is HR, there’s no point,” Nat groaned, watching the pink escalate to crimson across his face.

Who knew bow ties were a turn-on? Mom seemed to enjoy them. Ugh.

No wonder her dad had an army of fun bow ties. The teacup bow tie had been a gift from Elle Davidson, Clayton’s fiancé.

“Oh, hush Natalie Joan,” Mom chided with a grin. She turned to her husband. “Are you going to wear this bow tie to Clayton and Elle’s engagement party tonight?”

“It might be a little fancy for a brewery,” Nat offered.

The Farmer’s Ale, a local brewery owned by Todd Krueger and her brother’s best friend, Noah Wilson, would host the happy couple’s engagement party. Since opening in May, it had become one of the hot spots in the village. Granted, there were only four other “hot spots” opened past eight, including the VFW, the Sea Serpent Restaurant and Lounge, and the Wine Down, but she’d argue the new pub rivaled any hip brewery in Boston. Even if she was a little biased.

“Oh, I have aspecialbow tie for tonight.” Dad’s eyes filled with mirth.

“Oh?” Mom purred, waggling her eyebrows.

“Seriously. I’m going to need a therapist to wipe awaythisimage of the two of you from my psyche.” Her face scrunched up as she gestured to her parents.

“Don’t be dramatic.” Mom waved her hands. “Anywho, Mrs. Jarvis is here. LeAnne is weighing her and will put her in exam room two.”

“Thanks.” Nat picked up her tablet and stood. A pregnant mother of three was her next patient.

With a sorrowful wince, her mom held her hands up. “Sorry, sweetie. She’d prefer to see your dad. He was her doctor with her other pregnancies and she’s…just more comfortable with him.”

Nat forced her lips upwards as she sank back into her seat. “Totally get it.”

“It will take time, honey. Change is difficult. It’s slow, but it always happens,” he said, placing his hand on her shoulder before turning to leave.

I am Dr. Owens. I am Dr. Owens.

If she repeated that mantra, maybe it would come true, vanquishing the fear that in Perry, she may always be Dr. Owens’s daughter and nottheactual Dr. Owens.

CHAPTER TWO

“Some people seem to get all sunshine, and some all shadow…”Louisa May Alcott,Little Women

The sun’s rays caressed Nat’s bare shoulders as she stepped out of her sunshine yellow Jeep. Moving toward the brewery’s backdoor, the heels of her strappy tan sandals clacked against the blacktop parking lot. Most customers entered through the main entrance at the front of the red brick building. She wasn’tmostcustomers, though. She was family.

She had no memory of a life without Noah Wilson. His dimpled grin meeting hers across the room during her parents’ annual Christmas party. Those ocean-blue eyes sparking with mischief when they teamed up against Mom and Clayton in a game of cornhole at the Wilson’s Memorial Day BBQ. The song of his laughter filling the dining room after teasing her at a joint Wilson/Owens family dinner. The two families were always intertwined.

“Nat!” Elle looped her arms around Nat when she walked into the bar area.

Over the last year, she’d grown close with Elle. The auburn-haired beauty was once her favorite day camp arts and crafts instructor when she was a little girl. Now, one of her long-time favorite people was marrying one of her other favorite people.

“Look at you!” Nat took Elle’s right hand, twirling the soon-to-be bride. The skirt of her purple halter maxi dress glided with the movement.

“Well, I must keep up with my dazzling soon-to-be sister.”

The use of “sister” rather than “sister-in-law” fizzed like happy bubbles through Nat’s bloodstream. She’d been a sister but had never had one. She’d be willing to wear any bridesmaid fashion monstrosity for the privilege of calling Elle her sister. The pledge was true, but no real fear in ugly dresses. The fashionista bride would ensure all outfits were on point.

“Look at you in that dress!” Elle cooed. “Best stay clear of Aunt Janet. She may pull out a ruler to nag you about its questionable length.” She pointed a manicured purple fingertip at the hem of Nat’s pale green dress which stopped mid-thigh.

Outside of the clinic, where she wore her "take me seriously” knee-length pencil skirts paired with a not-so-serious pair of fun ballet flats, Nat liked to accentuate her petite legs with short skirts. The shorter the better. She had no insecurity about her body. She embraced it for what it was and wasn’t, but she still enjoyed the illusion of having long legs like Elle.

“It is a little too short. Maybe wear a jacket.” Clayton strode up, forehead creased and finger wagging.

Pressing a peck to his cheek, Elle teased, “Don’t be a hypocrite about your sister’s short dress when you’re flashing thosesexyforearms with your rolled up sleeves.”

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